In The Image of Alice
by Kerushi-Nee-Chan
Summary: Alice Eastwood is the granddaughter of Alice Lidell, the girl who Lewis Caroll based his books of 'Alice in Wonderland' on. Alice is content, but after her grandmother dies Alice discovers the looking glass in her attic and finds herself in Wonderland.
1. Chapter 1

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Yay! So Im finally done, well sort of. As Ive said I originally started this story last year in september but then I sort of forgot about it. Ive only written up to chapter 3 and I decided to type it out. I didn't realize it was this long :S Anyways I hope you enjoy. People who give good reviews get tea! (but not really :3)

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_**Chapter 1**_

**A Modern Day Alice**

A forest with the sweet smell of lilac and rose. The wind brushing against my skin ever so softly. Lying on the green grass, soaked with dew and an umbrella of blue skies and white clouds. Then, a gust of wind and leaves surrounding and sudden bright lights

That's all I remember of those dreams that seemed so real. I could practically feel the damp dew against my back. So real, but, wasn't. "Alice! Alice are you awake? It's almost quarter to nine!" a feminine voice yelled from downstairs, I recognized it to be my mothers.

"What?!" I shrieked, sitting up abruptly in my bed, my drowsiness now vanishing, "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?!"

I struggled to get out of my bed, getting tangled in the two blankets that covered me as I slept. As I went to get out of the bed (or at least tried to) I got my foot stuck in the blankets and falling flat on my face on the cold hard wood floor. I groaned in agony. I cursed under my breathe. Why couldn't it be Friday? Quickly getting up I took a five minute shower (that or sooner, and yes it is possible) and got changed into a Nightmare before Christmas T-Shirt with electric blue skinnies and silver skater shoes. I grabbed my bag and ran out the door. "Bye Mom!" I shouted over my shoulder as I jumped off the steps leading to the sidewalk.

The school was about nine blocks away from my house. I turned the corner of my street and heard the bell ring from the school, which was still about three more blocks away. I slowed down, catching my breathe realizing that I would be late no matter how fast I ran. I should've just walked to the corner store on Main Street and gotten some chocolate milk, then walked to school. But I was already a block and a half away from my school, so no turning back now I guess. I looked at my watch, wrapped tightly around my wrist. _9:20 AM._ I sighed to myself. Why in god's name did school have to start to friggin' early?! I **hated** mornings. Absolutely loathed them.

I walked onto the sidewalk that led to the doors of my school and slipped into the office. Mrs. Summerville was working in the office today; she was our secretary, well, one of them. Our school had three secretaries. Mrs. Summerville was one of them. A nice lady, mother of three boys, grandmother of one, married for twenty years and worked at our school for about eight. She was about forty but looked like she was twenty-five. She was the second secretary that began to work at our school. Our first one was Mrs. Hauckit. Don't ask what kind of name that is, cause **nobody** knows. Not even the teachers or the principal. Well, our principal, Mr. Rite, thinks its Italian, but I dunno. Well, anyways, Mrs. Hauckit only works as a part-time secretary and she substitutes for the grades seven, eight, nine, ten, and eleven. But she left a week ago for maternity she's going to have a baby boy. She said she would name him Jacob. Quite frankly, I think it's a cute name. And then there is Ms. O'Grady. She's a widow due to her husband Guy dying in an on the work accident. She's not exactly nice, but she's not mean either. She use to teach grade 5 but quit due to stress.

"Hello Alice, who are you today?" welcomed Mrs. Summerville with a warm smile, snapping me out of my daze, "Your mother phoned and said you would be late. Your class is in Social right now."

I smiled back to Mrs. Summerville. "Thanks."

She gave a nod and I walked away leaving the blonde woman to her work. Social, Room 104, second floor. What a boring class. And the worst thing about, our teach was a total closet perv. Disgusting right? Mr. Jackson would always make a move on a student (girl of course, unless he's secretly gay) who was last to leave class or alone in the hallways. I make him sound like a pedo don't I? But it's true, every single thing I've said, and how do you think I know this? From experience. Yes, it's the sad truth, it's happened to me before, and I've seen it happen. And what's even worse is that sometimes, he would even do it in class.

Truth is, I wasn't heading to social class, I was heading to the washroom, to hide until first period was over, but the bad thing about it was that the washroom was right across the hallway from Mr. Jackson's classroom. And what was even worse, I got caught. "Well Ms. Eastwood glad you could join us."

My eyebrow twitched and I turned to face the man I hated so much. He had a smug look on his face as he leaned against the door frame, his fingers tapping against it. I caught his eyes examining me, oh how I wished I could slap that look off his face. All the students peered into the scene happening in the hallway. Me late and a perverted teacher checking me out, oh joy. My ears caught the sound of girls snickering at me and a scowl appeared on my face. If looks could kill by god he would be dead before he hit the ground. As I walked into the classroom everyone watched me. The scowl on my face was still visible and I glared at a group of the preps that were seated in the front which immediately shut them up. I took a seat at the table which my friends Nana and Ryan sat at. Ryan was your typical tomboy, never wore a piece of clothing that showed above her knees, no pink, no dresses or skirts, nothing girly. Her typical attire consisted of long shorts or baggy pants and a t-shirt. She was really popular with the boys and got barely passing marks, mostly because she was at the skate park checking boys out or skating. She liked the attention.

Then there's Nana, an immigrant who moved to America when she was four, her parents got lucky and were shipped over because of the occupations they did. All I know is that her dad is an acupuncturist. She's smart and plays soccer a lot, and is nice as well. But she's really competitive and has a bad temper.

"Well that was amusing." Ryan commented quietly.

I glowered at her and rested my head on my arms. Before I absently drifted into a dreamless sleep, I caught Mr. Jackson glancing at me. I slept for the whole period because I awoke to the annoying buzzing noise. "You better hurry up Alice otherwise Mr. Jackson is going to get you~" Ryan grinned walking out of the classroom with Nana trailing behind her. I grunted in reply. Yawning I stood up; at the moment I didn't care about Mr. Jackson so I just began pick up my books. When I glanced up the girls had already left and the guys were piling out the door. I sighed and began to walk but tripped and dropped a book onto the ground. Queue the dramatic music of doom in the background and... a hand picked up the book I had dropped and placed it in front of my face. The hand led to an arm which led to a shoulder a neck and to the face of none other than...


	2. PREVIEWIMPORTANT NOTICE

Hello everyone! It's come to my attention that plenty of people have enjoyed my "In The Image of Alice" story so I thought this little update would be necessary.

I would like to say that I am now re-writing the chapters and tweaking the plot of this story, also re-naming the title to "In Alice's Image". Since the content is from when I was about 13 (which was 4 years ago), I think it's quite necessary. Chapter 1 has already been uploaded onto my new account (.net/u/3751535). I hope you all continue to read this story on my new account! So for a little treat, here's a preview of the re-written version!

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It all starts with a dream, a vision, a nightmare. Call it what you want, it all varies with each girl, however either way you will end up the same, just like the rest. For myself specifically, it started with a pleasant dream - a vivid one at that - one that would never foretell of the horrors I would have to endure in the near future. This all could have been avoided for me, if I had just listened to my Grandmother. I was a foolish girl though, and despite obvious warnings that would become evident in later events, I had ultimately doomed myself once I looked into that mirror.

In my dream, I would find myself adorned in a a pale blue dress and white pinafore, striped stockings and black mary janes on my feet. My long blonde hair is accented with a black bow as I sit under a tree, my blue orbs eyeing the leaves painted the oddest of colours; flowers coming to life and singing to me a lullaby that drifts along the wind. It's peaceful as I always glance up at the blue canvas sky, not a cloud in site which in turn, always makes me smile. However, when the flowers' lullaby grows louder and my eyes begin to feel heavier, it is then that I always catch the smallest glimpse of that peculiar rabbit in the waistcoat, pointing at his pocket watch that reads 7:49 with the red castle in the distance.


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